My Wind

Here is a little something I wrote June 22, 2010. Facebook reminded me.

 

My Wind

Always a color that brushes or murmurs
Recklessly precise, each stroke is a flavor
Before art and colors, before inspiration and reason 
Anywhere went everywhere and anytime be a season.

My wind, nothing is always something of all.
If yours to save then my wish is to fall
A world to create and lavishly adore
With you, my wind, my breath of last from first till no more.

Ian Banawa

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